Easier to quit, harder to admit
by Guardian Number 6
Summary: Oneshot, songfic. Everyone thought Justin was perfect, and that he loved himself too much. But what they didn't see in his beautiful blue eyes was a struggle with bulimia.


**A/N: I write this after typing out all of the lyrics; I dunno how to end it. And I also dunno who to use, I want to use a guy, because guys have eating disorders, too! I've made my decisions, and I know how to write this. I OWN NOTHING!**

_I lock the door  
>Turn all the water on<br>Bury that sound  
>So no one hears anything anymore<em>

Everyone thought I loved myself, too much, even. But as I turned on the tap, the thoughts that filled my head can't even be repeated on my death bed. I walked towards the porcelain toilet and quietly lifted the seat, and disposed of my dinner the same way it had went in.

_Mirror, lie to me, tell me you can see  
>Maybe you won't be able to recognize me now<br>I know you can feel all the things you steal  
>And you're taking it, and you're taking it<em>

I stared at myself in the mirror. I was a mess. My hair was thinning and stringy, my cheek and collarbones prominent, but there was one thing my lifeless blue eyes focused on. A small imperfection on my stomach. I told myself that if I could get that to go away, I would be perfect, and my modelling agent would come crawling back once he saw me.

_Feeling so easy, make me skin and bones  
>I'm always on my knees for you<br>Break it like it's even  
>When you're leaving and thin, where the hell have you been?<span>_

_Well, sometimes it burns  
>Maybe I'll wash it out<br>It all looks so big  
>Never mind, I don't feel anything<br>_My throat and lips burned. Grasping the plastic cup in my hand, I turned the cold tap on with the other. Then I remembered how much 'water weight' I had seen people gain and looked back at the imperfection, at the cup, and at the water, flowing freely. I would die for a sip of cold liquid to soothe the scratches that had formed in my throat over the years. I hesitantly turned the tap off, telling myself that it would all be worth it in the end.

_And it only hurt a bit, but I still feel like shit  
>And I think you won't be able to recognize me, now<br>It's easier to quit, harder to admit  
>And you're pushing me, you're fucking pushing me!<em>

As I walked down the familiar streets of Toronto, feeling terrible about myself. I wasn't stopped once by a single fan throughout my entire walk. I told myself that I didn't have a problem, that once I was perfect, I'd stop immediately.

_Feeling so easy, make me skin and bones  
>I'm always on my knees for you<br>Break it like it's even  
>When you're leaving and thin, where the hell have you been?<span>_

'_Cause you always win  
>You always win!<em>

That's when I realized it. My sister wasn't killed by a drunk driver; she'd had the same problem I had! My parents didn't want to tell me the real reason of her demise; it would've hurt me too much! I was disgusted. This sickness I had…would it win this time, too?

_Laughing like it works  
>Bleeding like it don't hurt<br>Knock you off your feet  
>Even if you need me<br>Tear you apart  
>And I hate how I need you<em>

I was stronger. She was only 13 when she died, leaving her 6-year-old brother alone. I wasn't leaving anyone, and I was a 16-year-old male. I told myself that the pain was all in my head.  
>But that's when my legs gave out. I had collapsed in the middle of the dining room. Pain surged through every limb of my body, tears leaked unstoppably from my stinging eyes. I looked down at my body. It was now exactly how I'd wanted it to be. But would I be alive to enjoy it? Sure, Ana had given me what I wanted…but she had sold it to me with something irreplaceable.<p>

_Make me skin and bones  
>I'm always on my knees for you<br>Break it like it's even  
>When you're leaving and thin<br>Where the hell have you been?_

I was leaving. I had been on my knees for Ana, over and over again.

_You always win  
>I will burn all this<em>

I was Justin, and I was now perfect.  
>But then everything slowly went dark, and I no longer was either of these things.<p>

…**This has taken 5 hours… *Sigh* It's not even that good! But wow, 2 deaths in 24 hours…I'd say it was my personal record, but I'll probably break it too soon… And, before anyone says it, bulimia is one of two subgroups of anorexia. The other is the restrictor type, the one most people think of as just plain anorexia. **

**I dunno what possessed me to do this, but the song is "Skin and Bones" by Marianas Trench. And take it easy on me; I've never really had an eating disorder (although I've been accused of it) and I'm only 14, so I probably got a few things wrong in here. **


End file.
